"Linda, you, are you really planning on meeting Van Gogh?"
Shangguan's boy Shangguan Zifeng couldn't help but ask this foolish question that made all the men present wish they could just die.
"Yeah, we'll talk about it when I have time. I just want to tell him to be hopeful about life, and maybe suggest that he should add a bit of minced meat to his painting to make it more pleasing to the eye."
Empress Shangguan Linglang's face was dead serious, not at all as if she were joking. By the look of her, she really intended to meet that miserable artist who seemed to have so little love for life, ah, ah, ah.
"Let's talk about future matters in the future. Are you hungry, Linda? Do you want to go to the resting room and have some food first? Then we can see,"
